#creeper x reader

[ficnation]

Lying in Blood - EZ Reyes x Reader

Summary: When your husband dies you're left to mourn the life you were supposed to have. But when guilt consumes the killer, a chance at redemption opens as he steps forward to raise the child as his own.

Word count: 2,6k+

Pairing: Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes x Female! Reader; Past!Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x Reader

Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5, mayans mc typical warnings, pregnancy, pure angst

A/n: EZ might be a little OOC but who cares. Enjoy the heartbreak and please reblog if you liked it!

Main Masterlist

Mayans MC Masterlist

The moment you walk into the clubhouse, the smell of smoke and leather assaults your senses. The atmosphere is smoky, the air heavy with the cigarette fog swallowing the entire room. In the background, the clicking of pool balls and the murmur of conversations can be heard, the smell and environment already making you feel a little dizzy as the door opens and shuts behind you.

You force yourself to move forward as the members of the MC raise their glasses and nod in welcome to your arrival. You greet them with a warm smile like always, then look around the room in search of your beloved’s face. You can almost see him talking with his friends in the crowd, an unopened beer bottle in his tattooed hand.

But he’s not there. It’s just your imagination playing tricks on you.

Bishop must’ve noticed the way your eyes wander around the room in search of a ghost. He stands up from his sitting place, grabs your arm, and pulls you toward one of the couches. You slump down against it, sighing heavily.

“Querida,” he starts, sitting down beside you, his arm outstretched, beckoning you closer.

You shake your head to will the dark thoughts away, then relax against his side, your cheek finding rest on his shoulder.

“Bishop,” you greet him back with a smile.

“You’ve popped,” the man notices with a chuckle, looking down at the roundness of your protruding stomach.

“Oh, definitely. I woke up one day, looked in the mirror, and thought she doubled in there,” you mumble with a huff, but there’s a lightness to your voice.

Bishop admires your strength—how you can still see the world in colors even when your life is falling apart. It baffles him. He wishes he had that kind of strength himself.

He smiles at you, pulling you just a little bit closer. “She?” he repeats, raising his brow.

You smile brightly at him, caressing the bump with gentle, loving strokes. “Yeah, it’s a little girl.”

But your smile falters ever so lightly when you think about the fact that Neron still doesn’t know that the doctors were wrong and you were going to have a little daughter instead of a son. He won’t even be there when you give birth. He’ll still be behind bars, far away from your baby girl.

Bishop notices the change in your expression and grasps your hand in his, squeezing delicately. “He’s proud of you, you know that. We’re all proud of you.”

You can only nod in response, blinking away the tears that started forming in your eyes. You weren’t as strong as they all wanted you to be. You were just about to become a mom—a single mom because your husband won’t be there for most of the baby’s early years. You’ll be lucky if he gets out when she’s a teenager.

“Yeah, just wish his child was more important than the club,” you whisper under your breath, quickly regretting your words. But Bishop looks at you with understanding, no ounce of anger on his face. “Well, I actually came here looking for EZ. Is he around?”

“He’s not around. But he should be back soon. Do you wanna wait for him?” he asks, kissing the side of your forehead. “I can get you some water and keep you company.”

You stay with him, conversing to kill time as you wait for the club’s president to turn up. The older man keeps you occupied, talking a little bit about everything—how long until the baby comes, if you need help setting up the nursery, is your money situation looking okay—Bishop asks about everything in hopes the MC can make your life a little bit easier.

An hour or two passes before Ezekiel walks into the clubhouse. He looks around the room and doesn’t expect to see you there. Your presence startles him.

His eyes stare intently as you talk with Bishop, one of your hands mindlessly caressing your protruding stomach, waiting for the baby to kick. The other man hovers his hand close, ready for you to guide it so he can feel the little kick.

EZ feels the guilt—it comes up his throat and makes him nauseous. You’ve been friends for so long, and you don’t even know just how bad of a friend he was.

He ordered the murder of your husband. He took away the father of your baby—the man you loved with your whole being. He took his life and didn’t even give a second thought to how it would affect you—how much it would ruin your life.

The baby in your stomach starts kicking, so you take Bishop’s hand and press it against it. Ezekiel still stares, but he’s too far gone in his thoughts to register what’s happening.

“She’s kicking.” Your smile is bright, and it gives him a tiny bit of hope that Neron’s death won’t make you miserable for the rest of your life.

He forces his legs to move forward, swallowing the want to throw up all over the wooden floor. With a forced nervous smile, he reaches the couch.

“Is she?” the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.

You sit up straighter, surprised by his sudden appearance. The smile you give him is innocent—unknowing.

“Hi, EZ.”

He returns it, but it’s weak and awkward, and he’s sure you can feel just how out of place he felt in his own clubhouse.

“Hi.”

Bishop senses the sudden shift in the air. He gets up and presses a kiss to your cheek, his beard ticklish on your skin. He regards the younger man with suspicious eyes. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says finally as he leaves you with the club’s president, heading towards the exit of the building.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” you notice, patting the couch where Bishop once sat to beckon Ezekiel to take his place.

The man scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “Yeah… I was busy with the—” he’s lost in his own words as he gestures vaguely to the clubhouse, “the thing.”

You raise your eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, definitely,” you joke, “the thing always requires attention.”

He laughs at your words, but it has a forced quality to it. The joke isn’t that funny. You know it, and he knows it too, but you wave it off, thinking he didn’t want to make the conversation more uncomfortable than it already was by giving you the details.

“Yeah.” He sighs deeply. “We’ve got it under control, though,” he continues, and you respond with a nod, your eyes not quite meeting his.

“Have you heard anything from Neron?”

So that’s what you came here to ask—EZ thinks. It was logical. You barely needed the MC’s help, preferring to get stuff done on your own, mainly because you didn’t want to add to their problems. You always held your head high.

“He’s been quiet for a while now,” Ezekiel tenses in his seat as the words leave your mouth.

He can almost feel the crickets playing a symphony in his head. He doesn’t know what to say or do, so he opts for a simple lie—he is getting better at them with every passing day. “No, I haven’t heard anything.”

“Damn it.” Your sigh clenches his heart painfully. “Those cops are probably harassing him again.”

“Probably,” he agrees with you, scratching his chin for a second as he glances at your face. “You’ve heard nothing at all?”

“Nothing. He doesn’t call anymore.” The tone of your voice changes, and he can feel the heartbreak—the agony that those words render.

EZ takes a deep breath and forces a smile. “He’ll call. I’m sure he will.” A fucking liar; that’s what he is.

“I hope so. We’re so close to the birth date. I wanted him to know that.”

He doesn’t know how to reply, so he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. He was always good at lying, but why was it so hard to lie to you?

He tries to smile more warmly—look more warmly at you, but all you can see in his eyes is pity. It drives you insane.

“EZ, is there something you’re not telling me?” your voice screams suspicion. He starts to get nervous.

“No, of course not.” He looks at you hard, hoping you’ll believe his lie. It takes a moment for you to process what you see and hear before the suspicious glint falters and falls.

“Oh, okay.” you sigh in sadness. You have a feeling he knows something, but you’re not willing to push it. “He was supposed to choose the name.”

Another gentle squeeze of your hand. “He will come through. Don’t worry.”

You believe him. “You’re right. I’m probably just overthinking.”

EZ nods his head in agreement. “You’re just stressing yourself out; it’s not worth it.” There’s a pause as he kisses your temple, then speaks again, changing the topic slightly, “How have you been doing? Everything going alright with the pregnancy?”

“Yeah, we’re doing good. The nausea went away.” His still didn’t. “Now I’m just running to the bathroom every three minutes. Girl makes me wanna piss so bad.” You let out a chuckle—such a beautiful and peaceful sound. EZ feels like he could record it and play it over and over again before he falls asleep.

“That’s good… and exhausting.” He’s starting to feel more at ease again. You seem to be distracted and not noticing how oddly nervous he’s been acting, or even if you did see, you let him have the upper hand.

“It is exhausting. But we’re gonna get through it. For Neron.”

He nods in agreement. “For Neron.”

Such a beautiful betrayal.

The next time you see EZ, a few days have passed. The whole MC knows about Neron’s death, but not you—not yet. He lets you live in a state of not knowing just for a few more minutes before he knocks on your door and gives you the information that will ruin your life. Oh, wait, he did that—he ruined it by choosing to protect himself, get rid of the snitch. Snitches end up in ditches—they were right.

He raises his fist, presses the buzzer, and he can almost hear the heavy pats of your feet as you rush toward the door. You open it and greet him with a smile. You’ve looked through the Judas beforehand—smart girl.

“EZ?” That carefree smile falters as you notice the seriousness decorating his face. Your hand grips the doorknob tighter, knuckles turning pale.

EZ sighs and hangs his head. “You need to sit down.”

“What the fuck happened?” you ask, but EZ doesn’t respond.

He turns you around, closing the door before gently pushing you towards the living room and the couch in the middle. You listen to him and sit down, waiting for him to speak. Your leg bounces up and down in worry. The dark thoughts swirling in your head make you want to crawl out of your skin.

EZ cuts straight to the point. He knows you’d only get furious if he tried to tread around the issue.

“Neron’s dead,” he says simply—as if to just get the words out of his mouth. They leave a foul taste on his tongue. He’s not even looking at you because he knows already how badly he fucked up. He can hear your heart breaking into a million pieces as your brain struggles to register that information.

When it finally hits you, you gasp trembly.

“No. No, he’s not,” you try to deny his words, shaking your head furiously. Tears are already building up in your eyes, and they’re falling down in waterfalls down your cheeks before EZ can reach to wipe them away.

“I’m so fucking sorry. It’s my fault.” He sits beside you and takes your hand, raising it to his lips. He leaves a kiss on every single tip of your fingers. “I killed him. It’s all my fucking fault.”

The sobs wreck through your body like a tsunami, and you drown beneath their intensity as you cradle your bump. You don’t even hear him. You refuse to hear him.

EZ wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head as he pushes it to rest on his chest. He can’t look at you so broken—so destroyed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

His other palm rubs your back up and down in a motion that is supposed to be soothing, but it doesn’t do shit to make it hurt less. You let him comfort you, giving into his embrace as you weep and clutch the back of his kutte in tight fists.

EZ sits that way with you for a while, rubbing your back and keeping you close. He doesn’t speak, only offers his presence and affection as comfort. He knows if he opens his mouth again, he’ll admit to what he’s done—this time for real.

“How am I supposed to go on?” You sob into his chest, your whole body trembling.

EZ just holds you tighter, his lips pressed to the crown of your head. “One day at a time.”

“I’m supposed to raise our daughter on my own? That’s so fucking cruel. Why did the world take him away from me?” your words are almost muffled as you get them out through the tears and sobs.

He looks down at you, his face etched with guilt. He’s glad your head is pressed to his chest and you can’t see it. You’d put the puzzle pieces together faster than he could mutter a single word.

He rubs his thumb back and forth between your shoulder blades. “I don’t know. But you’re strong. I know you’re strong enough to get through this.”

He puts on a facade before placing a hand under your chin and lifting it so you can look him in the eye. “I know you are.”

“No, Ezekiel, I’m not. I can’t do this,” you argue, shaking your head furiously. “I want him back,” you cry out, and it breaks his heart even more. It was his fault. He did this to you.

“I know. I know.” EZ says this over and over again, rubbing circles on your back.

He stays the night, cradling you in his arms as you sob and scream. And then he stays another night and another day keeping you company and helping with daily tasks. You don’t even realize that weeks have passed, and he’s still there when you wake up and when you go to sleep.

He’s there holding your hand when your little girl is born and when she says her first word. He never left, taking on the role of being a dad figure for your child. It felt wrong, but you never stopped him, either.

You didn’t stop him when one night his lips found peace pressed against yours and when he rolled on top of you, giving you pleasure you haven’t felt for a long while. You didn’t stop him when he moved in and became a constant presence in your baby’s life. Before you even knew it, she was calling him ‘papa.’ It made your heart clench painfully.

EZ took the opportunity and treated it as his only chance at redemption. He wanted to give you the life you wanted to have with the man he took away from you.

Sometimes the guilt was too much, and he had to leave for a few days to get it back under control. But he always came back.

He was good at lying, after all—lying with his hands covered in blood. Such a beautiful betrayal.

#ezekiel ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes x reader #ez reyes x reader #mayans m.c. #mayansmc #mayans #mayans mc #ez reyes #neron creeper vargas x reader #creeper x reader #neron vargas x reader #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x female reader

[bullet-prooflove]

Talk Dirty To Me (NSFW) - Neron 'Creeper' Vargas x Reader

Tagging: @est1887 @anime-weeb-4-life @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @spaghettificationandpretzels @corruptedcoffin @redpoodlern @oureternalbond @rubes2323 @samanthaofanarchy @lexondeck

You’re a work of art, Neron has thought that since the moment he met you. Those pretty floral tattoos sweeping up your arms, he likes to trace his fingers over them, following the lines and flourishes until he reaches your shoulders. His palms chase the daisies and roses that decorate the curve of your waist, until his hands rest firmly over the swell of your hips, holding them in place tight against his own as he loves you from behind.

There’s nothing more beautiful than you spread open on his mattress. Hair falling over your face as you bury it even deeper between his pillows to stifle the noise you make as he fucks you with long drawn out strokes that make you sing out his name.

“You like that, nene?” he asks you as he presses deep. “Feels like you were made for this cock. So wet and fucking tight. The perfect fit for me.”

You can’t speak. The pleasure of being with him is too much for words alone so you moan, biting down on the fabric of the pillowcase because when Neron gets you like this you can’t help but be loud.

“Taking me so fucking well.” He tells you, his gaze lowering to the space where his cock disappears inside of you. "Such a good fucking girl for me."

He learned in the early days of the relationship how you respond to praise; that it ignites some erotic part inside of your brain, heightening the sensations and driving you wild.  The right words at the right time from Neron…

They ruin you.

“Fuck baby you feel so good.” He rasps, his voice rough as his hips start to stutter. “Gonna come Mami, gonna fill you up until it leaks out around my cock so that you remember it's me that loves you the most.”

Those words, this man.

You combust around him, the orgasm igniting like a star through your synapses and consuming you entirely. It’s the noise that tips him over the edge, that muffled shriek as your body tenses, gripping his cock he can’t help but lose it. He fucks you through it, drawing those deviant little cries from your lips as he watches his cum drip from that perfect little pussy of yours. He uses his thumb to smear it around your opening, his dick still buried deep inside of you.

It’s territorial, he knows it but you’re his and it’s moments like this that remind of shit like that because deep down he’s insecure, he craves the intimacy of being with you. The act itself, the aftermath…

“Fuck nene, I love you so much.” He tells you. “Seeing you covered in me…”

He trails off because he can’t describe what it means to him, how it makes him feel to have you wrecked in his sheets. He never thought he’d have something this beautiful in his life, something so perfect, his heart hurts at the thought of losing it.

“I know.” You tell him, your cheeks flushed pink as you look at him over your shoulder. “Christ Neron, it means everything to me too.”

**********************************************************

In the aftermath Neron can’t help but touch you. His palms trace over the curves of your naked form, his lips ghosting over the rose tattoo etched up the side of your throat. His body is pressed against the length of yours, skin against skin, ink against ink. The tattoos, they bleed into one another, colours and shapes clashing, your softness against his rougher edges. Contrasting but complementary, all at the same time. His thumb trails over the outline of your jaw as he looks into your eyes, his mouth brushing over yours with the softest of kisses.

“You’re so beautiful Mami.” He whispers against your lips. “Like God himself painted you and set you down on this earth just for me.”

Your fingertips follow the line of his pert mouth, he captures them in his hand, pressing delicate kisses to the pads of your fingers.

“Can’t get enough of you.” He tells you, his expressive eyes fixed on yours as he guides your hand lower, underneath the sheets before placing it on his stiffening cock. “Just had you and I want you even more, need to be filling up that pussy again nene, showing you just how much I love you.”

His fingers delve between your legs, his fingertips radiating heat as he moves in slow, stimulating circles that make your skin flush with ecstasy.

“Think you can so that for me Mami?” he asks you, his lips brushing over yours. “Think you can be good to me and give me a little more? Think that you take me again?”

He kisses you as his fingers seek out your wetness, still slick and leaking with his cum. His thumb presses down just a little on your clit, fingertips teasing around the entrance. You whimper into his mouth, nails scratching his skin as he allows one of his fingers to slip inside of you, pushing directly on that sweet spot.

“Yea Mami,” he murmurs against the corner of your mouth. “I think you’ve got another round in you.”

Love Creeper? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#neron vargas x reader #neron creeper vargas x reader #neron vargas #neron creeper vargas #creeper vargas #creeper x reader #mayans #mayans fx #mayans mc

[ravennaortiz]

Day 26: Call Me Holly

Summary: Smut Creeper x Reader

Neron hadn't came out tonight with the guys for anything in particular. In all honesty he hadn't really wanted to come out but they had talked, well bullied him in to coming out. While they were slamming shots and playing pool he had slunk off to a booth in a dark corner of the bar to be alone with his thoughts. That is where you came in to play in all your curvy, vibrant beauty.

A simple request from your siren voice and a bat of those smoldering eyes had him falling over himself. The two of you had been chatting casually you running your foot up the side of his leg as wisps of your perfume tickled his nose. Then next thing he knew you were under the table with his cock down your heavenly throat and his hands buried in your thick locks as he bucked his hips up to chase his needs. Neron could fill himself getting close to spilling over and he came to a stop gently pushing you off him.

"I need to" he had started to explain as his eyes met your confused ones. Without hesitation you climbed up his from under the table and straddled him. Neron latched onto your swollen lips as he pushed your dress farther up your hips as he cupped your bare ass. You moaned into his mouth as you ground against his length. Neron groaned at the feel before positioning himself between your folds. Within a couple minutes he was buried deep inside you as you rode him his hands gripping your hips to help keep pace.

Neron was lost in you entirely. The sounds, smell ad sight of the bar and patrons around you guys long gone as he chased his release. All he was aware of were your angelic moans, soft fluttering walls squeezing his length and the smell of warmed vanilla. One last breathy moan that had you pouring your release around him sent him over the edge inside of you.

As the two of you panted trying to catch your breath Neron chuckled lightly at the thought that he was thankful he had come out tonight. As you slipped off him lap and straightened your dress you blew him a kiss before starting to walk away. "Wait- Can I call you?" Neron called as he grabbed your arm his pants still undone. You giggled before grabbing his phone and typing a number but no name in. "Whats your name?" neron asked. You shrugged before replying. "You can call me Holly." before walking off to the other side of the bar where the mayor was sitting.

Tag List: @darqchilddaydreamz

#ravennasmasterlist #chistmas #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans smut #neron vargas #neron creeper vargas #creeper x reader #creeper smut #neron vargas smut #mayans imagine

[stvrdustalexx]

Mayans M.C.

angst 🌧️ fluff ❤️ smut 🔥 favorites 🌟

masterlist

Neron “creeper” Vargas

maybe you should come with me by @imagineredwood ❤️❤️❤️🌟

mistakes by @lady-writes20 🌧️🌧️❤️

which one of them did this? by @lady-writes20

en español by @lady-writes20

Bishop

somethin’ wrong here by @mikeys-thighs 🌧️🌧️🌧️

somethin’ wrong here pt.2 by @mikeys-thighs 🌧️❤️

accusations and apologies by @50shadesofrossi 🌧️🔥❤️

en el vino esta la verdad by @lady-writes20 ❤️❤️

angel reyes

angels reina by @fanficimagery ❤️❤️❤️❤️

better than him by @drabbles-mc

#mayans mc #creeper #creeper x reader #bishop x reader #angel reyes x reader

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Sons of Anarchy/Mayans MC Masterlist

Sons of Anarchy

Filip ‘Chibs’ Telford

Happy Lowman

Jackson ‘Jax’ Teller

Juan Carlos ‘Juice’ Ortiz

Harry ‘Opie’ Winston

Herman Kozik

Alexander ‘Tig’ Trager

Mayans MC

Angel Reyes

Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes

Hank ‘Tranq’ Loza

Michael ‘Riz’ Ariza

Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas

Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa

Preferences ~

Mayans Men When Asked What The Male Equivalent Of Flowers Is?

#sons of anarchy #mayans mc #chibs x reader #happy lowman x reader #jax x reader #juice x reader #opie x reader #kozik x reader #tig x reader #angel reyes x reader #ez reyes x reader #tranq x reader #riz x reader #creeper x reader #bishop losa x reader

[deadghosy]

So I saw a lot of your work, and I love them. Keep it up, please. You're doing great... but I wanted to ask or well request something see if the requests were open or not so so sorry if they were but I saw your Enderman reader and I wanted to have a creeper reader and see how the hotel would react to them. gender neutral, please 🙏 .

I got these pictures off the internet, and I thought these would give you a good idea of what the reader would look like.

They could also have a humanoid form similar to this, but you could easily ignore this. I was just giving you examples or pictures you could go off of

OOOOH THE FIRST DESIGNS ARE CUTE! IMA DO THATTTT HEHHE💗💗🦆 I LOVE MINECRAFT

HAZBIN HOTEL X CREEPER! READER

prompt: Steve accidentally knocked you into an unknown portal.

Steve had a leash on you as you hiss softly smiling and nuzzling against his hand that has your leash. Steve put the leash around a fence trying to make a portal to the neither as you sit down smiling at your human. Steve uses his flint and steel as the portal is red which makes Steve back away. As he backs away, he accidentally knocks you forward into the portal.

“READER NOOOO!” Steve yelled as you hissed in a quick panic.

You hiss with a cry as you plop on your face on some blood. You couldn’t even get up as your arms were short. You were 90% of body and 10% of legs….

Soon you felt someone pick you up grumbling drunk. “What the fuck is this?” A rough voice says as they shake you making you hiss. The person turned you around to see your black eyes and full black mouth as you hiss at him. The drunkard laughs and takes you by the leash, oddly gently walking you as he blabbers about being lonely and selling his soul to some smiley asshole.

Next thing you know, you are in the arms of this cat demon who is drooling passed out drunk

And that’s how you got into the crew as you became the server who serves the residents of course.

Literally you walk with a severing tray on your head as you smile with a “pst” and go back to the bar.

I headcannon they all woke up to see a four legged fuzzy creature literally walking around and they were like “what the fuckkkkk…”

I can imagine you falling down the stairs into Angel and you both just fall on the floor like idiots

You know how cats go towards the creepers and the creepers run away? Yeah. Literally husk got oddly attached to you making Charlie make you part of his bar as you serve drinks out to residents.

You were literally walking, holding a tray in your mouth. Husk just stares at you with dilated eyes and purr. The crew noticed this but didn’t confront him. Well alastor did of course and he didn’t get an answer out of husk.

Imagine a cartoony moment where Angel scares you, making you literally poop out gun powder😭 Angel gave the same face to you when sir Pentious called him “son”

Alastor definitely thought you were a cannibal because of your black eyes. He brought you a dead sinner, like literally he thrown a small sinner in your face. And you just stood there confused with a “pst.” And walked forward to Alastor and purr against him.

Mission failed successfully, Alastor gained a furry child-

I headcannon creeper! Reader to have a tongue just like the reference and picture because Steve mostly heard the sounds from their mouth.

Charlie and vaggie tried to make you a room, but Lucifer couldn’t help but love your fluffiness as he picked you up and ran as the others chased him.

I headcannon even if husk was the one that took you in. You can sense he is a cat demon, mostly a cat in your eyes as you run away from him as husk just walks normal speed confused behind you.

“Where you goin'?” Husk asked as you cry out a hiss running away on your stubby cute legs.

It was basically giving, “WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING!”

You ran into Lucifer’s room to hide from husk-

Lucifer likes to pick you up at times. Literally he knows when you get too nervous you explode things. So he has part of his room your calm down station with fluffy pillows 💗

“PST.” “Why yes you fluffy boy??? Uuh girl. I did make you a duck. And look!” Lucifer says turning around dramatically “it was a rubber duck, green with green fuzz with a red button on its head. “It also explodes!” Just as he said that, a tiny exposure hit his face making his face look smoky as he gags and cough.

One time a sinner had yelled at you for accidentally giving them the wrong drink, and immediately they were thrown out by husk who had a dark expression at you cowering at the yelling. He’s not taking disrespect towards you lightly.

I can see you just casually walking outside only to get mistaken for grass, and an old lady was trying to cut your fur off.

“Hey has anyone seen Reader?” Vaggie says as she looked at the crew who showed up for the meeting. The crew looked around confused until they heard a big ass boom. *VINE BOOM*

I headcannon you sometimes explode based on intense emotions, mostly fear or being scared.

The old lady didn’t survive the explosion.

I imagine creeper! Reader having behavior issues like a cat. Like there was a small ball and you hit it like a curios cat.

The Vee’s were confused to see you as you were shopping at the beer store. And you walked minding your business, catching vox’s attention as he stopped the two other Vee’s. Literally they were intrigued at how different you looked. They’ve seen sinners and demons before. But you are so different.

I imagine you getting so much attention for your weird creature look. Literally either people wanna skin you, or pet you.

Valentino probably seen you on Angel dust’s post that said “what a cutie, they can’t pick up the teddy bear” and Valentino was raising a brow at your appearance

Rosie would also think you are a cannibal as Alastor brought you to cannibal town to show you off. Rosie admires your affection towards her as you just purr and help her around.

Creeper! Reader is definitely a child by heart as they thrown up one time and went to a “trusted” adult to say, “pst.” Which translated to “mom/dad, I threw up.” 🥺

You once blowed up one side of the hotel over a nightmare 😭 Alastor sighed with a smile and fixed it

You actually once had Alastor scratch your back as you couldn’t reach it . Alastor wasnt sure how he wanted to touch you since he wasn’t prone to being touch himself. But he did for you.

Why do I headcannon for a creeper and creeper! Reader to blow fire….

IMAGINE THE ABSOLUTE FOREST AND HOUSE FIRES YOU MADE😨

Cherri bomb would literally be friends with you since you can explode. So yeah I can imagine the chaos you two cause around the pride ring

Velvette probably would get ahold of you to give you a cute cloak that goes around your “shoulders” . It’s just so cute that you would have a cloak.

LMAO STOP CAUSE WHAT IF VAGGIE HAD THROWN YOU IN THAT ONE EPISODE WHERE VAGGIE THROW THE CAST DOWN INTO A FIELD😭 YOU KILLED SO MUCH PEOPLE WITH YOUR BOOM

Meanwhile Steve is just standing there shocked at the lost name tag you had as he sighs pulling out another creeper egg. Only for the creeper to blow up in his face.

I can see him posting out a missing poster with him coughing out smoke.

I headcannon Lucifer made you a duck pool seat as you just float in the pool smiling like a child as you drink lemonade. You’re so Adorable 😭💗

I imagine reader to go through a lot of training to be a waiter as you just trip on one of your legs to serve a resident their drinks

Niffty likes petting your soft fuzzy paw..she literally rubs her face in your fur hypnotized in it.

I headcannon you to smell like gun powder and a soft scent of fresh air that makes anyone relax as you are mostly outside back where you came from.

You mostly pick things up with your mouth of course. So imagine how awkward it is trying to put on your waiter outfit in your room. 😭

Sir Pentious definitely steals gun powder from you by making you scared so you can drop the gun powder. And then he apologizes to you after almost getting a heart attack.

I can see a calm moment of you snuggling with the crew as your favorite hotel crew member hold you.

The egg boiz definitely nap against you as you sleep in your fluffy pillows that Lucifer got you

You blowed up a resident on accident cause they didn’t tell you that they were behind you before you could see who it was.

You like getting groomed by niffty as it reminded you of how Steve combed your fuzzy fur while you smiled relaxed.

Adam had picked you up as you followed Charlie behind her back since you wanted it do errands.

“The fuck is this shit?” Adam says as you hiss at it. “Did this shit just hiss at me?” Adam asked with an amusing smirk as he noogies your head

Adam would definitely know what you are cause I headcannon he goes to earth to see what games online they have 😭😭

I headcannon that you just shed around the hotel with your green fur. But who can complain when literally it’s just small pieces that smell like gun powder.

#creeper #minecraft #minecraft creeper #creeper! reader #creeper x hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x creeper! reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #hazbin vox #hazbin charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin angel dust #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin exterminators #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x creeper!reader #hazbin hotel x Minecraft

[coryosbaby]

Riding Darry’s tattoo <3

“Baby,” Darry breathes. His hands rest above his head per your request.

“Shut up, Dar,” you reply breathily. “‘M busy.”

He groans, watching the way your bare cunt lips leave a slick trail of arousal across his happy trail. You had asked for this when you had sleepily woken up, needy and craving the touch of your boyfriend. You had shaken him awake, whining about how wet you were. The sliver of skin that his shirt had revealed when it had ridden up looked oh so appetizing— his abs, the trail of hair leading down to the place you like most. The way his tattoo seemed to beg for a nice, tight pussy to rub on it. You couldn’t resist.

Darry bites his lower lip. His face is flushed a dusty pink.

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”

You smile, scraping your nails against the flesh of his chest. He feels so perfect on your achy clit, your head tilting back in carnal pleasure.

“God,” you sigh, the words bordering on a whine. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Could make you feel even better with my hands,” he muses. His tongue probes at his bottom lip as he takes in the sight of your nightgown falling off of your shoulders, your breasts spilling out of the silky fabric. “You’re so beautiful. Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You whimper, your pussy clamping down on nothing. You miss his cock, his fingers and tongue. But you know that you’ve started something you have to finish.

“Aww,” Darry coos, watching the way you seem to slick even more on him. “You like that, huh?”

“Dar,” you warn, though his voice makes your stomach tighten.

He disobeys one of your commands. His big hands move to your hips, squeezing the soft skin in between his fingers. He rocks you harder on him.

“Yeah, there you go,” he murmurs, eyes wide as he watches your mouth fall open. You let out a loud, desperate moan. “That’s my girl.”

“Feels so good..”

You cry on him, giving in and letting him take the lead. You bury your face into his shoulder as his hips thrust up against you.

“I know,” and then, “let’s get you to cum, yeah? Let’s get you there… ‘n then you’re gonna ride somethin’ other than my tattoo, angel.”

#darry Jenner #Darry Jenner x reader #Darry Jenner x fem! reader #Darry Jenner smut #Darry Jenner blurb #Darry Jenner Drabble #Darry Jenner oneshot #Darry Jenner fanfic #jeepers creepers fanfic #jeepers creepers #bunny writes

[littlenightma]

Hello. I hope this request is not strange. Can you write a Yandere Jeeper Creepers headcanon?

Yandere!Jeepers Creepers Headcanons (NSFW)

• Your scent was intoxicating and it called to him like a siren’s song. He drops his latest kill to the ground. He had to find the source of the delicious smell or he was going to go insane. As he searches, he is bombarded with an assemblage of differentiating scents, but none of them are yours. Where are you, sneaky human? He flaps his wings harder until he is nothing but an unrecognizable blur in the sky.

• And there you are, pinned beneath him, screaming and squirming. Talons dig into your skin. Muscles ripple beneath your hands as you futilely try to pry away. He trails his nose everywhere, sniffing and scanning, searching for something. You think, this is it. This thing is going to rip me to shreds. He finally comes to a stop between your legs. Ah, there it is. To your horror he buries his face there and inhales deeply and rises with a toothy grin. He is going to enjoy you.

• Unfortunately for you, Creepers mate for life, so unless something terrible happens and you die, you’re stuck with him forever. Mating lets him to bypass the 23 year hibernation cycle, too, so yeah, until you die, you belong to the Creeper.

• There’s no use in running. He can track you from miles away and will find you every time. Not to mention he will be very displeased and will rip whoever helps you apart. All those times he allowed you to leave the den for a few hours are long gone.

• Creeper doesn’t talk much — and it depends on if he has vocal cords on him at the time — but every now and again he calls you different pet names from little human, pretty pet, or a simple mate/pup because he senses how you like it. His main form of communication is through body language or vocalization. When he growls you know you’re in trouble or when he tenses and his ears perk, it means there is someone or something nearby and you are expected to hide until it’s safe to come out.

• You do most of the talking because of this. Whenever he brings home bodies to “work on”, he listens to you ramble about different things: the weather, politics, or the new tv show you’ve been watching. He doesn’t understand a lot of it like why humans feel the need to buy their food when there was a plenty of animals to be hunted or why there were some who refused to eat meat altogether, but it doesn’t matter to him as long as he gets to hear your voice.

• Very territorial. Does not like when males of any species get close to you. Human, feline, canine, it doesn’t matter, however humans can get you pregnant and if that were to happen, he’d have no choice but to kill the offspring. No mate of his was going to bear any children that didn’t belong to him.

• Will scent and mark you to let others know you are already claimed. If anyone wants to fight for the right to have you, they can certainly try, but you know what’s going to happen, right? It’s not going to end well for them.

• You know who is in charge here, don’t you? You humans deemed yourselves the apex predators, top of the food chain, but it’s certainly not him rolled onto his back and displaying his belly in a show of submission. Such a good little pet you are.

• You’re unprepared for when he knots you the first time. Your initial reaction is to move away, however the knot is connecting you to him and will not budge, causing pain. You have no choice but to lay there and allow it to lodge itself further inside you. It’s intense, the feeling of his knot invading you, stretching you more than his monstrous cock did. You can’t believe you’re being fucked like an animal in the literal sense and how it’s even remotely possible for your human body to be adjusting so well. Wasn’t your body supposed to instinctively push out anything foreign? So why was your body greedily sucking him in and why was it starting to feel so good? Oh…

• When you’re on your period, it sends him into a state of frenzy and he will not leave you alone. The combination of your blood mixed with your pheromones are begging him to breed you. While it is impossible for him to impregnate humans, you’re still going to be put on your hands and knees, ass up and ready so he can fuck you all night long.

• And when I say all night long — I mean it. There are no breaks, no time outs, no breathers for you to take. It’s just him pounding into you relentlessly until his knot forms then it’s rinse and repeat. It’s messy, it’s sticky, and the more you cry out, the harder he goes. If you reach behind and grab his hips, pulling him close because you’re needing more is exactly how he wants you; a pleading, blood-soaked, cock drunken mess. You will never have to worry about having cramps again because he will fuck them right out of you.

• Loves to play fight. One because he wants you to learn how to properly pounce and pin prey to the ground. The more you learn to give into your own primal instincts that humans have all but lost long ago and learn to protect yourself when he isn’t around, the less he has to worry. Two, because of the social aspect of it. He likes spending time with his human and enjoys when you try your best to get the upper hand. Sometimes he will let you win, but there’s no changing the dynamics here. He will always play the dominate role.

• Takes you on impromptu flying trips. At first you were too scared to open your eyes to even look at anything and he has to jostle you until you do. It’s scary to know you’re that high in the air, but the fear eventually gives way and you begin to enjoy the wind blowing in your face.

• On those rare occasions when the Creeper isn’t out and prowling for himself, he rests you on top of his chest and cocoons you within his wings, locking them tight. He hums an old tune while scratching your back with his claws and eventually you are lulled to sleep, dreaming of a winged creature who has turned your life upside down.

• But maybe not for the worst.

#jeepers creepers x reader #jeepers creepers #jonathan breck #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #slasher community #yandere #jeepers creepers (2003) #slasher headcanons

[conchabread]

We need more fanfics of this man. I just know he whimpers

#darry jenner #jeepers creepers #x reader #fanfic #Darry Jenner x reader #movies #horror movie #anime and manga #my fic #I don’t know what I’m saying of why I’m saying it I just know that I need this man so bad 😫 #Ilovewhimperingmen #I love whimpering men

[bullet-prooflove]

Two Halves - Neron 'Creeper' Vargas x Reader

Tagging: @est1887 @anime-weeb-4-life @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @spaghettificationandpretzels @creativitybeware @corruptedcoffin @redpoodlern @oureternalbond  @rubes2323 @lexondeck @librarian1002 @thanossexual @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @perverteddreamss @adaydreamaway08

There is not a thing that Neron doesn’t love about you. He loves seeing you in his bed, laid out like a fucking dream, a patchwork of scars and tattoos that tell the story of your life. He takes his time to explore them, memorise them with his fingertips and tongue. He learns what makes your breath hitch, what makes you laugh, when to go harder, faster and when to slow it down.

He loves early mornings, hearing you bang around his kitchen trying to find shit. He loves the way you always greet him with a smile, that you are always happy to see him even when you’re distracted.

He loves the way you draw roses, and daisies and sunflowers when you're thinking, doodling different variations of the flowers over and over again until find a solution to the problem you’ve been tackling in your head. He collects each of the napkins you draw on and puts them away in a shoebox at the top of the wardrobe where he keeps his precious things. When you’re not around and he’s feels the darkness starting to creep in, he gets them out and he looks at them, tracing his fingers over each of the designs because they're beautiful and sometimes he needs a reminder that there’s light in the world.

He loves the fact you sing in the shower despite the fact you’re terrible. You’re bold and loud and have no fucking shame and he adores it. You laugh when he joins in, his arms wrapping around your naked form as the heated water rains down on the two of you. After a few minutes the singing usually stops because you’re both too pre-occupied with other things.

He loves the way you hold him at night, his head tucked under you chin so he can hear your heartbeat in your chest. It’s a comforting sound in the depths of the darkness, the press of your bare skin against his as you kiss the top of his head. Sometimes you tell him that you’re terrified this is all a dream, that one morning you’ll wake up to find yourself alone. He kisses away those doubts, his thumb ghosting over the line of your jaw as he reassures you that he’s real, that what the two of you have is everything to him and he’s never going to vanish from your side.

He loves the fact you don’t judge him for his mistakes, the past or the present. He doesn’t want to scare you off, to burst this perfect bubble that the two of you have created. It’s impossible you tell him, to get everything right the first time. You’re both human, you’re both learning to love again, so long as you're open with each other and honest you’ll work through it. He finds being with you surprisingly easy. He was on his own for a long time, his only intimacies transactional, to find someone that actually cares for him and not what they can get from him is a blessing.

You fit into his life as if you were always meant to be there. He enjoys cooking for you while you draw up designs for your customers on the kitchen table. He loves the expression on your face as you focus on the flow of the design, the flourish of it. Your brows furrow when you concentrate, you pout just a little when things get tricky and it is the cutest fucking thing.

He calls you Nena.

It means babe, the only term of endearment he knows with his mix of Spanglish.

He loves the way you eat ice cream on the couch, spoon pressed against your lips as the two of you curl up under a blanket and watch ‘Escape to the Chateau’. He does not understand how it became his favourite show, only that he loves how fucking judgemental you get when someone starts to try preserving antique glass by bashing the frame around it with a hammer.

He loves the way you give without an expectation of return. To him, your business, to the kids at the community centre. Sometimes he worries you’ll have nothing left for yourself. He tries to speak to you about it, about overstretching yourself but there’s no stopping you. You’re a force of nature, a relentless storm trying to do everything you can to ease the burden of those around you.

When it all gets too much he’s there, a port in the middle of a restless ocean because you are only one woman, and you can only do so much. The thing about Neron is he grounds you; he keeps you on your feet when the realities of the world are too harsh to deal with, he never says ‘I told you so’. He’s always there, holding you up, supporting you and despite how fiercely independent you are, you need it. You need him. You’re cut from the same cloth you and him, two halves of the same soul.

Love Creeper? Get added to his tag list!

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#creeper vargas #neron creeper vargas #creeper #neron vargas #neron vargas x reader #neron vargas x you #neron creeper vargas x reader #neron creeper vargas x you #mayans fx #mayans mc #mayans #creeper x you #creeper x reader #creeper mayans

[ravennaortiz]

Day 14: Christmas Cookies

Summary: Fluffy Creeper x Reader

Neron rolled over and found a cold spot in the bed you shared. Opening his eyes he saw it was only seven in the morning. Frowning he wondered where you had gotten to so early. Rolling out of bed he stretched before making his way out of the room. Neron chuckled softly when he found you in the kitchen. Every surface was covered in a light dusting of flour and you had dough in smeared on your cheek and in your hair.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you" you apologized as you turned to him your face scrunched in worry. "You didn't" stated Neron as he walked over to you and pulled you in for a hug. "What has you worried" he asked as he wiped the dough off your face. "I wanna make a good impression with the club" you replied with a heavy sigh. Ever since Neron had told you he wanted to introduce you to them at the clubs Annual Christmas Bash you had been stressing. "So I thought I'd get up early and make some Christmas cookies. All was going well then I lost control of the mixer and one thing lead to another and now your pristine kitchen is covered in dough and flour." you explained frowning as you set the bowl you had been holding down on the counter.

Neron turned you around to face him and turned your face up to his. "They are going to love you. If they don't....I'll kick their asses" stated Neron firmly as he held your gaze with his. "You are perfect. Don't worry about the mess. Why don't you hop in the shower while I clean this up then we can go get breakfast at Wild Eggz?" suggested Neron as he smiled at you. "Okay" you murmured as you moved to head out. "Or you could join me?" you added as you grinned at him over your shoulder.

Tag List: @darqchilddaydreamz

#ravennasmasterlist #christmas #mayans x reader #mayans imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagines #mayans mc #creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas #creeper x reader #creeper x you

[imagineredwood]

"So, what are you gonna do?"

Request: Creeper and reader imagine finding out she's pregnant after she left him and wanting her back

Pairing: Creeper Vargas x female reader

Warnings: Arguing, breakups, hidden pregnancy, crying, angst with no comfort at least in this part

Word count: 2.9K

A/N: I'll do a part two to this, I'm just sleepy and I want to take a nap but I wanted to get this out for yall first lol What would yall like to see? Groveling? Happy ending? Should she make him sweat? Should she just understand and forgive that tensions were high? Let me know💕

"Fuck."

You cursed as you held the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hand. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Not in the slightest. Life was already complicated and messy enough as it was. Things with the club were tense, the war against other charters of their own club creating an air of chaos that amplified day by day. Creep tried his best to soothe you. Take away the worry. Tell you that everything was going to be fine, you just had to wait it out. But it didn't feel that way. It seemed like every time you turned around, it was a shooting or a bombing, your nerves frazzled. It had caused a rift between the two of you. Him feeling like you nagged too much, you feeling like he only ever disregarded you. The two of you had fought significantly more than you had fucked recently and yet now here you were, already apprehensive of where the relationship would end up, now with a baby getting thrown into the mix. You'd been careful, at least you'd thought so. But luck wasn't on your side, it seemed.

Throwing down the pregnancy test into the trash, the fourth to be exact, you held your head in your hands as you sat atop the closed toilet lid. You had no idea how this was going to go. You’d mentioned kids before, sure, but you hadn’t talked about it extensively. You had no idea how he would feel about a baby right now, and all that uncertainty did was make you feel even worse. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. You would have to sit down with him tonight and establish some boundaries. Make him see that he couldn’t just placate and then disregard you anymore. It wasn’t just about you two now. There was a third life involved, and you needed to know where his head was at. It was a talk that was a long time coming, and you hoped that it would go smoothly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Enough with this shit already. Fuck!”

Creepers voice was harsh as he cursed, exasperated with you.

“Every fuckin’ day it’s the same shit with you. I get home and it’s immediately gotta be a fuckin’ war, like I don’t deal with that shit in the clubhouse. Coming home is supposed to be relaxing. I should get home and feel happy to be here, grab a beer and just shoot the shit with you, watch some TV, cuddle, something! But no, I come home and it’s a fuckin’ interrogation every night. I can’t take this shit anymore!”

You sat at the table silent, eyes welled to the brim with tears that you begged not to fall. You stared at him, feeling helpless and hopeless. You hadn’t meant to start a fight. You were just trying to get him to see that you wanted him around more. That you missed him. That you worried for him. That you needed more from him. That you needed to know that you could count on him All you’d managed to do however, was start the millionth argument of the month. You kept your voice low, half to deescalate, half to stop yourself from crying.

“I’m just trying to get you to meet me half way. I know you’re stressed, and I know you guys are struggling, I know. I just…I need to know that you’ll try to be present more. For us.”

You caught yourself with the last word, but thankfully he didn’t realize, simply thinking you meant the relationship. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, his own voice quieter when he spoke again.

"I just...I don’t know what you want from me. I can’t be out here taking you on dates every night, spending the whole weekend with you, going on getaways. I know you need me but so does the club. Hang out with the girls. Go shopping with them. Go to the movies with them. It doesn’t always need to be me. It can’t always be me. I can't balance you and the club in the way you expect me to. One keeps losing out and at the end of the day, the club comes first. I told you that in the beginning."

You stared at him blankly. Sure, he’d said that before. In the beginning before you had even really gotten serious. You had taken it as a warning that things might not move in the way that you were used to. But you were well past that, you thought. Your voice was shaky as you inquired.

“Do you still feel that way?”

He stared at you, not wanting to have to say it. But you needed to hear it. You would need to hear it directly from his mouth if you were going to have to leave; because you would leave. If he couldn’t find some way to compromise - to find it within himself not to volunteer for every single little thing and at least try to be there for you more, then there was no sense. You had put yourself through it for three years. You refused to put your child through it. If you were going to find the strength to leave, you needed to hear him say it.

“Feel what way?”

You blinked and finally managed to look at him, his chest aching at the tears in your eyes.

“That the club comes before me. That even with how much I’ve tried and begged and pleaded and supported and waited for things to get better…that you still love it more than me. More than us.”

There it was again. Us.

The Mayan groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face roughly, eyes tired and somewhat cold as they regarded you. He shrugged, tattooed arms held out to the sides.

“You knew what this was when you got with me. This is who I am. This is what you get.”

You stared at him, and finally you couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. They cascaded down your cheeks and you felt like you could feel your heart breaking within your chest. Because it was done. You’d asked him to make the choice, and now finally after trying to save your feelings all this time, he’d finally been honest and chosen.

And it wasn’t you.

You knew if you told him you were pregnant, it might’ve changed things. He had always bashed deadbeats. Said how important it was for kids to have their fathers around. But you also felt it pointless. If he would change, you knew for a fact it wasn’t for you. It was because of the baby. Even by giving him the gift of life, he didn’t find you important or worthy enough to change for. And who was to say that change would stick. He’d change for the moment, but would he bail out on appointments and sonograms? Would he miss the birth, too preoccupied with a deal? Miss birthdays and recitals just to carry out hits? That wouldn’t be fair. Not to you and not to the baby. You were a grown woman; you didn’t need him. Wanted him, sure. But you didn’t need him. The kid would, and it wouldn’t be fair to them. It was up to you to protect them. To give them the best life possible. And bringing them into the world with an absent father who picked and chose when to be present wasn’t something you were going to sentence your baby to. You knew firsthand how bad it felt to always come second. You wouldn’t do that to them.

So you simply nodded, standing up from your place on the sofa, tears blurring your vision.

“Well, I guess that settles that.”

You didn’t really have much else to say, at least nothing that would make a difference. You wanted to cry and scream and plead, but you’d done enough of that, and it hadn’t made much of a difference any other time. No. You would keep your dignity. With the back of your hand, you wiped away your tears and made your way to the bedroom, ignoring his voice as it spoke from behind you.

“So that’s it huh?”

You didn’t respond, only went into the closet and grabbed your duffel bag, tossing enough clothing for a few days into it. You had moved in with Neron after a year, the Mayan feeling that you would be safer if you lived with him. You had obliged, and now wished that you had kept your place. Even still, you would go out and find an apartment tomorrow if you could. It was late already, nearly one in the morning. You would stay in a hotel tonight and begin the search for a place to live tomorrow.

You were stuffing bras and panties into the bag when he entered the room silent as he stood behind you and watched for a little while unsure what to say.

“You don’t have to leave. You can stay. I’ll sleep on the couch. We can talk tomorrow when you’ve had time to calm down.”

You shook your head. He might have thought you were just being dramatic, but you knew this was what you had to do.

“Nothing to talk about. You’ve made it clear what your priorities are. I just have to come to terms with that, and I am. We’re not compatible. Better I find out now than…later.”

You force yourself to stop there, not wanting to say too much.

“OK, but it’s the middle of the night. You can’t just leave and…go where?”

“Hotel. Don’t worry about me. It doesn’t matter what you say, I’m not staying here.”

He grumbled and threw his hands up, his anger flaring.

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

“I am.”

You made your way into the bathroom and grabbed your toiletries, tossing them into your bag as well. Chargers, phone, keys, wallet. Everything you would need these next few days. You zipped up the bag and slung it over your shoulder, walking past him and out of the room and heading to the front door. He trailed after you, seeing that you were fully serious. Your throat and chest ached, but you refused to let him see you cry. You would wait until you pulled away.

Making your way to the front door, you slipped on your shoes, Creepers eyes on you.

“I’ll tell Steve to grab the rest of my stuff.”

That was all you gave him before you went out the front door, his eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked. He said nothing as he watched you, angry but knowing to just stay quiet. He would let you take your few days to calm down and then he would sit down and talk to you when you came back.

“Text me when you get there. So I know you’re safe.”

You didn’t respond and simply closed the driver-side door behind you, pulling out of the driveway, knowing you were going to block him for at least a week so you could begin healing. You needed to start fresh. Both for yourself and for your child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s serious.”

Steve winced and nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, man. She wants me to take it to that storage place. She’ll keep it there until…”

Creeper knew the rest of the sentence. He didn’t have to say it.

“Until she finds were she’s gonna live.”

Steve nodded, hating the tension. Creeper shrugged, feigning indifference, but inside his heart was aching. He let the prospect in, silently carrying some bins with him to pack up the rest of your things. He disappeared into the room and Creeper sat down on the soda, pulling out his phone. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. It had been two days, and he hadn’t heard from you. He only knew you were ok because of Steve. You’d grown close to the prospect, trusted him. You saw him like a brother, and normally Creeper was thankful for it. Now he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy. He hadn’t heard anything from you, and he knew he was blocked based of his calls and messages being prevented from going through. He knew you had been upset about the way things had been, but he hadn’t thought you would actually leave him over it. He realized now that maybe he should have been more patient, more open to compromise. It had only been two days and already the house felt cold and bleak. You’d taken the warmth away with you.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there contemplating his actions and shortcomings, but it was long enough for Steve to be done, the last bin stacked up at the door. Creeper looked at him, anger that wasn’t directed at him.

“Look after her. Make sure she’s good. Let me know if anything happens.”

The Prospect nodded quickly, remembering that you had told him the exact opposite. He would help you. You were his friend after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you, Steve.”

You wiped the sweat on your brow and so did the Prospect, the bins finally in your new bedroom. You were thankful for him. You wouldn’t have been able to get all of them into and out of the storage, then into the truck and into your new apartment if it weren’t for him. He’d been a godsend with this break up and you made sure to try and pay him handsomely for his help. He’d declined. So instead, you’d forced him to at least yet you pay him in fresh lemonade and soft pretzels, and he’d been inclined to concede. Now all had been brought in and you could finally start unpacking, thanks to him.

“I really appreciate you doing this more me, Steve. It means a lot. It wouldn’t taken me forever without your help. I would’ve had to get someone and I’m sure they would’ve taken all the money they could from me. I can’t thank you enough. This place will be good for us.”

The Prospect nodded, brows furrowed as he looked down at the floor.

“You keep saying ‘us’. Do you have a new boyfriend already?”

Your eyes widened, caught, but Steve interpreted your surprise as indignation. He began to backpedal immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate or anything. It’s none of my business anyway, I just noticed you said us a few times and I wondered if maybe you had found someone else and I didn’t want them to get upset that I was in here alone with you because you’re just my friend and I would never-“

“Steve.”

You silenced him with a hand and utterance of his name. You were already moved in and more or less set up. The unpacking you could do at your own pace, but the couch and bed were already assembled, the fridge on and stocked. You were good now. It didn’t matter if he found out.

“I’m pregnant.”

Steve’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes bugging as he stared at you.

“And Creep just let you leave?”

You shook your head, eyes still on the prospect.

“He doesn’t know. I didn’t tell him.”

He nodded and looked like he could pass out. You felt bad and sighed, trying to ease him.

“You don’t have to keep it a secret. I wouldn’t put that on you. You don’t have to lie or hide things for me. I’m not trying to get you in trouble. I’m just telling you the truth. That’s why it was so important for you to help me with this and why I appreciate it so much. I needed to get back on my feet.”

He nodded, understanding, and looking a little less stressed now.

“It’s ok if you tell him. It won’t change anything.”

He nodded again and you smiled, pouring him another glass of lemonade for the road.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s what?”

Creepers eyes were on fire as he stared at the prospect. Steve shifted uncomfortably under Creeper’s gaze, as well as the others who looked just as shocked.

“Y-yeah. She’s not too far along. Like two months or something, I think. I don’t really know.”

His voice was small as he spoke, everyone looking at Creep now.

“And she knew when she left.”

He wasn’t really asking, but Steve nodded anyway.

“She said she needed to get back on her feet. Make sure she had a placed that was safe so she could start over.”

Steve’s words were like knives, even though he knew the prospect wasn’t trying to hurt him. Hank stood and tossed an arm around his shoulders.

“You did good helping her. Let’s get a drink.”

He walked them both into the clubhouse, leaving Creep, Bishop, Angel, and EZ outside. They stared at their brother, no one talking for a while.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

Creeper stood there motionless, unable to answer Angel’s question. It was Bishop who answered for him.

“He’s gonna get it the fuck together and go get his woman back. He’s gonna apologize, say that he was a fuckin’ idiot, that he wasn’t thinking, and it was a mistake to let her go, crawl on his hands and knees if he has to, and show her that she can count on him. That they both can. Whether she takes him back or not.”

Bishop took a long drag from his cigarette, eyes staring off into the distance as he felt his heart clench as he thought about his own late child.

“He’s gonna make sure he owns up to his mistakes and spend time with her, so he can be there for his kid and watch them grow up.”

His eyes landed back on Creeper then, his gaze stern.

“That’s what he’s gonna do.”

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#imagines #mayans mc #creeper vargas #creeper vargas x reader #mayans imagine #mayans fx #neron creeper vargas #neron vargas x reader

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Then just for fun you take your tongue and run it over my lip | And gotta love the way she does it for the hell of it | We're in positions that most people only say they know | Rub it right up, against my body | You got your hand on a landmine, ready to blow |But the devil can hear you when you say... | C'mon and get up (get up), move your body |Use your body, lose control. |Use my body, make it yours (So get up) | We're gonna light this room on fire | Ya, you and I will burn it up tonight (so get up) | The two of us will fuel this fire | No way in hell we're slowing down tonight

And! Belly button shots with that slutty ass tattoo.

Smut? Implication? Sex dancing?. Edging? That's up to you. I am here to just proved a muse not a direct request.

Well, well, well, Lorde! Thank you so much for giving me the in for write for Darry Jenner for the first time! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it! And now this is officially the last fic of my 20s! A weird and fun smutty fic of an underrated character, how on brand! Let’s get into it, yeah?

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.1K. Darry Jenner X GN! Reader. No Pronouns Or Parts Specified. Warnings: Teasing. Alcohol Consumption. Partying. Body Shots. Mild But Playful Slut-Shaming (Darry Is The Slut Here.). Making Out. Grinding. Hand Job. Blow Job. Throat Fucking. Edging. Sex. Riding. Banter. Reader Is Kinda An Asshole But It’s Fun.

—

“Who’s The Real Slut Here?”

—

It’s Friday night, you are in college and so naturally you are out at a party, decently full of people, music playing at a healthy volume and your classmates drinking and making merry, excited the school week was done. You were of course among them, with the same idea in mind, of cutting loose and forgetting your stress, and you were well on your way to do that. You’d been here for around an hour, hadn’t really run into anyone you knew super well, but that was fine, you were enjoying milling and mingling. 

Currently making your way to the living room, looking around distractedly at the goings-on, people dancing, mingling, talking, in the early stages of hooking up, Hell, who knows, maybe you’ll find someone to grind up against yourself. 

That train of thought is quickly abandoned as another body collides into yours, shoulder to shoulder, and sharp contact with a small jolt of pain sends your body turning expectedly and unfortunately makes you drop your drink. You were drinking out of the natural party classic, a red solo cup, so broken glass wasn’t a concern, but the sticky and sweet mix of fruit juice, carbonation and alcohol spills over your shoes all the same. 

Eyes drop with a disgusted sound, your shoes are fairly waterproof so your socks getting wet isn’t a concern, but your shoes are going to be tacky and gross, you just know it. You feel annoyance and anger bubbling until you hear the frantic and rushed, “Oh my God, I am so sorry.” 

You had a response on your tongue, ready to snark out something close to, “Yeah you better be!” with a healthy amount of venom, but when your eyes raise to look at your assaulter in the face that quickly proves to be a difficult task. You become distracted by dark brown eyes and soft looking black hair, his face tinged with worry and what looks like genuine remorse, pink lips parted and hands up, it makes what was meant to be a bitchy barb melt into, “Yeah, you’re okay, I mean, it’s okay.” 

“God, no it’s not, looks like that was full-” You cut him off with a smile, anger was forgotten, “Really, it’s okay.”

“At least let me get you another drink? For my conscience if nothing else.” He is very sweet, reads as honest, earnest. You agree and say, “Yes, okay, I can let you do that.” 

He finally smiled, slow and more beautiful than it had any right to be. You and he make your way to the kitchen and once in there and in front of the drink station you both notice that there are no cups. He says, “I think there are some on the top shelf of this cupboard, hold on-”

“How do you know that?” You ask, and he says as he opens the doors, “Oh, my friend lives here.”

He reaches up to the aforementioned top shelf, rooting around for the cups, and you are just watching him, eyes move down his body and in the process of him stretching. His shirt rides up and you of course stare at the newly revealed skin, what you find there makes you gasp before laughing out, “Woah! Slut alert!”

He pulls the cups down, jaw dropped open as he says, “Excuse me?”

You respond enthusiastically with a point to him as you say, “You! I just realized, you’re a slut.”

The cupboard doors are closed, an eyebrow raised as he asks, “What makes you say that?”

You take the two strides forward to be within touching range, and you reach out, fingers hook in the hem of his shirt, and you yank it up and point to his tattoo with your other hand. “This! Look at this shit, guys who aren’t sluts do not have little whoreish rose tattoos like this!”

“Christ! You’re being awfully forward for someone I just met.” He smacks your hand away and smoothed his shirt back down into place, and you laugh again, “I notice you aren’t disagreeing with my assertion.”

He argues with you as the package of new red solo cups was torn open and one was retrieved, “Didn’t think I had to! I think it’s obvious I’m not a slut.”

You watch as he plucks up one cup and sets it down ready to finally make you that drink, but you aren’t concerned with that anymore, instead you asked, “Oh yeah? Wanna bet?”

“Seriously?” Was his deadpanned reply. 

“Yeah, let's ask ten people, if more than five agree with me that you are a total tart based off your tattoo, I win, and if less than five agree that you are not a slut, you win, and I’ll drop it.” You explained quickly, a wide grin overtaking your face.

He looks considering for a moment before asking, “What do you want if you win?”

You push his shoulder playfully as you ask, “C’mon, where’s the fun in that if I tell you upfront?”

A roll of his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest, the small smile on his face as well as his tone tattles on the fact he is amused however, attempt to fix your drink abandoned, consumed in the current ridiculous conversation, “If you don’t tell me I won’t do it.”

You groan and kick the kitchen island you were next to, “Fine. Spoilsport. How about…” You look him over and then grin lewdly as the thought comes to you like lightning,, “A body shot.”

He laughs with a shake of his head, eyes drop to the floor as he shrugs and says, “Fine. You’re on.”

You shake on it, eye contact reestablished, and the game was on. 

Your hand on his wrist, you start to lead him around the party. The routine went as follows, you walk up to a person, ask if they are down to participate in settling a bet you were both in, if they said yes, you would be showing him off. You would lift his shirt excitedly, or he would be reluctantly tugging it up himself to show it off until ten people later you were saying positively giddy, “Seven out of ten college party goers agree! You are a slut.”

He sighs and asks quietly, “What shot are you doing off me?”

To you, there was only one answer possible.

“The classic naturally. Tequila.” 

Soon enough he is splayed across a table that is normally used for beer pong, currently in between games, and you are setting him up. He’d taken his shirt off before laying down, you rubbed the wedge of lime on him, the space of his belly button now slick and salt sprinkled, your other hand gripping the bottle of tequila you’d already taken the cap off of, you tip it and poured the liquid into the hollow of his belly button. He shivers and squirms slightly, some spills, overflows, and you chide him, “Fuck, stay still!” 

Before he can retort, you’d taken that same lime wedge and placed it in his mouth, rind side down towards him, flesh of the fruit upturned. The bottle is set down and you make your move.

You lean down, one hand on his jean clad thigh, higher than it needs to be, fingers curling over the curve of his thigh, your mouth is close enough. Your lips latch, and you drink from him, tongue dips in, and you eagerly lap up the burning alcohol before you swirl along the perimeter and over that same tattoo that set this bet in motion. Next your tongue turns upwards, passing over warm skin and his firm toned stomach, catching the salt you sprinkled before. 

Afterwards you are pulling up and with one smooth stride, fingers trailing up his bare torso as you go, your other hand descends onto his forehead. Your fingers run through dark hair, a and you leaned down, you give him a ghost of a kiss as you steal the lime wedge, you linger longer than necessary, if he wanted and responded fast enough he could have kissed you, but he was too shocked. You are pulling back up, your fingers come up too, and you bite down, sucking the acidic delight back. Clean rind is pulled away, and you look down at him, stomach wet and lips shiny, staring up at you, and you say, “I realize something.” 

He sounds just a little out of breath as he asks, “What’s that?” 

“I never got your name.”

He realizes that’s true. A small cock of his head as he tells you,  “Darry. My name is Darry.”

You toss the rind of the lime wedge aside, and you tell compliment him, “Well, Darry, I have got to say, at least you are a man of your word. You have follow through.”

He sighs and holds one hand out, “Gee thanks, wanna help me up?”

You do so, gripping his hand and pulling him to sit up and get off the table. He goes to put his shirt back on, but grimaces, “I feel all sticky now.”

Taking in the sight of the hardwood and sturdy table that was covered in a million rings from never having seen a single coaster but cups upon cups of drinks and who knows how many spills your expression mimics his, “Yeah, that table was not clean, c’mon, let’s go to the bathroom, I’ll help you clean up.”

Soon you are standing in the ensuite bathroom attached to the master bedroom. You aren’t supposed to be in here, it is supposed to be off limits, but you’ve always been a rule breaker, haven’t you?

You are cleaning him up, warm and damp wash cloth running over his back, and you say, “So why don’t you think you’re a slut?”

“Cuz I’m not one?”

“Are you sure? Letting me parade you around the party like I did, letting me do a body shot off you like that, I mean fuck, dude, I tongue fucked your belly button before you told me your name. Seems pretty whore like to me.” You teased playfully, and he laughs shocked, seemingly speechless. 

You asked, “What do you think?”

He takes a deep breath before, sighing out, “I think no matter what I say, you are gonna think I’m a whore.”

You finish cleaning him and are wringing out the cloth into the sink and shrug, “Maybe, maybe not.” He catches your eyes in the mirror. He is staring. You stare back. 

You turn and there is this tension. You break it by dropping the cloth and flicking some water onto his still bare chest, a challenging raise of your eyebrows asking, “What are you gonna do about it?”

And you get what you want. 

He wants to put you in your place, wants to shut you up, but mostly you think, he just wants to, and so he makes the first move. His hands on your arms, pulling you closer and taking that single step, and he kisses you. 

The make out is speedy. 

A brief thought flits through your mind, that you were getting just want you wanted out of tonight, fun, relaxation, a few good drinks and getting to hook up with someone. You are feeling bold, and you think he wants it, you test the waters, you feel him up, hands over bare and exposed skin, and he doesn’t shy away, no he leans in closer, eager.

You suppress a smile as you deepen the kiss, one hand is on the back of his neck, the other running over the expanse of his chest and one leg hooks over his hip as you grind on him. He gets hard pretty fucking quick. 

The speed is enough to make his head spin. Two minutes ago, he had his hand in your underwear, touching you, but you made him stop and were now on your knees, pants open and pulling him out. You work him over, hand locked onto his shaft, and you stroke, firm grip, a squeeze whenever you get to the head, a twist of your wrist on the down stroke of his shaft and a steady move back upwards to repeat the process all over again. 

He is leaned against the counter when you lean in, your tongue flicking over the tip, and that has him moaning, head back. The view is fantastic, pants and underwear low on his hips, shirt still off, hands gripping the counter edge so hard you can see the flex of tendons in his forearms, it encourages you to wrap your lips around his head. You suck indulgently and keep your hand in motion, he tastes very fucking good, salt and tang, delicious and when you feel him start to throb in your palm you pull back. His head drops, chin tucked into his neck, to look down at you. His expression is crestfallen, he looks sad and confused as he asks, “Why’d you stop?”

You remain on your knees, tongue licking up the pre-cum on your fingertips before you say, “Because I want you to say it.”

More confusion as he asks, “What?”

Pressing him, you say, “I want you to say it, admit it.”

“Admit what?” Asked Darry, still not getting what you were driving at.

You smile and say it as if it were as simple as two plus fucking two, “That you are a whore. Nothing more than a needy slut. Say it and I’ll keep going.”

He looks shocked again. His mouth opens and closes, but he can’t say much more than, “I-...” before you start again, he moans anew, how cute is he? How stupid and gullible? This will be fun. 

You work quickly, hand and mouth serving to wreck him in short order. He is moaning, panting, hips rocking forward, and you can tell, nearly there, he is close, and you stop, he curses, and you tease once more, singsonging out, “You aren’t finishing until you say it.” 

“I’m not gonna-” 

Well, that won’t do. You don’t let him even finish saying that he isn’t going to do it. Your hands on his hips you lean in, and you make one swift move and you deep throat him, take him to the root, and he lets off the best sound he has all night, a choked off moan with shattered breathing, utterly close to ruin. He looks so pretty like this. He had run his fingers through his hair, bit his bottom lip so hard trying to stay quiet you think it might bruise and bleed, his chest and neck is flush, he is unreasonably hard and leaking pre-cum at a steady rate. 

You are relentless. You work him perfectly, swallow around him, suck, lick and more until he is about to burst. “Please, please, fuck, don’t stop, s’ good-”

He sounds fantastic when he begs, you feel yourself in need and aching. You almost want to give in, you are sure he will moan with the utmost gratitude, will sound hot enough that it might get you halfway there on its own without you ever having to touch yourself.

He is still begging, “So close, God, yes, ah-”  He sounds so fucking hot, amazing, he is all but whining, but he didn’t say the magic words you wanted and so, you then pull off of him. Remove his thick cock from your throat and mouth, the wet strings of saliva break apart, the leash that bound you and he no more. You stand up and pull away, are ready to fully leave the bathroom, fixing yourself up in the mirror, and he grips your wrist. He is painfully hard, dripping, breathing is laboured as he asks, “Please, fuck, please don’t leave me like this?”

You give him a nearly apologetic smile, one thumb wipes some stray spit from your chin as you prompt him, “Then just say it, Darry. You say it and admit it, and I’ll get you off.”

A pause, a beat, and he finally relents. 

He says it shockingly smooth and confident, maintaining eye contact with you, he states as if he truly believes it, “I’m a whore, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I’m a fucking slut.” 

“There you go. Good boy.” You step away and your hand locks onto the doorknob, you open it and asked him over your shoulder, “Wanna go dance?” 

He sounds shocked and calls after you, “Wait! I-I thought if I said it that you’d-”

You turn, eyes meet again, and you tell him, “Oh I’m going to take care of that-” And a nod down to his still raging erection, “-but I was thinking we can go take a break, let you calm down a bit and then maybe you’ll be able to fuck me without busting in two strokes. No offence, by the way, I didn’t make it easy on you, I can make an experienced guy bust in two minutes with some serious effort.”

That is a lot to take in all at once. His mouth opens, another unsure sound before as he asks, “You want to-”

You fill in the blank. “Fuck you Darry. I want to ride you into oblivion.”

He was so caught up he hadn’t noticed you were holding his shirt, you threw it at him and said, “Now c’mon you still owe me that drink from earlier too.” 

He caught the shirt and was putting it back on as he asks, “The one you hoovered off my body doesn’t count?”

You lean against the door as you watch him stuffing himself back into his jeans and closing his pants off his still obvious erection as you say, “Not even close.” 

He got you that drink, you did dance and later on in on top of the coats in a guest bedroom you kept your promise. Only afterwards, the sound of him whimpering while he came still ringing in your ears while you remain perched on top of him, heaving and sweat slick, coming down from your own orgasm, you tease him and say, “Was that so hard?”

He huffed out with a weak and satisfied smile, “No, suppose not, it was pretty great.”

You hum out, “I’ll say. And hey, Darry, you know this is all in good fun, right?”

He hums unconvinced and shifts under you, and you say, “No really, think about it Darry. I fucked you without ever telling you my name, I’m a slut too.”

The laugh he let out is the second-best sound you’d heard all night, when he sucks down a deep breath and the laughter subsides, he tells you warmly, “You fucking suck.”

“You know it.” 

#Darry Jenner x reader #Jeepers Creepers x reader #Final Boy x reader #BHF writing #BHF asks #WE GOT IT IN #AN HOUR BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY #WE DID IT

[whinesandwhimpers]

ghost as the creeper from jeepers creepers and when he smells your fear the only thing he wants from you is your pussy

#(wrapped around his massive cock) #should i write this LMAO #im losing it on this roadtrip #ghost x reader #creeper!ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

[bjtch-craft]

"You're into dudes?"

Darry Jenner x Male! Reader

SFW!!♡

☆ Summary: After a laundry mix-up, [Name] meets a boy named Darry, whom he quickly catches feelings for, and in return for the mixup, Darry invites the boy to a frat party.

☆ Request: Yes or No

☆ Word count: 1,835

☆ Genre: Fluff☆♡

☆ Warnings: None! (At least I don't think so.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Name] waltzed down the compacted hall of his dorm holding a basket of laundry he was supposed to pick up about two hours ago. He’d ran out of his class the minute it was over and ran into the building's basement in fear his clothes would smell like mildew and/or begin to mold. Luckily, someone had tossed all of his shit in the dryer.

A discman was clipped into his belt and a pair of headphones were draped around his head blasting some song his roommate had burned onto the disc. He bobbed his head to the beat, opened the door to his dorm, and tossed the basket on the floor taking off his Discman and headphones he tossed them onto the table that sat in the corner of the small room. He then grabbed the basket and began to sort through them.

“Huh… I don’t remember owning a yellow ringer” he thought out loud.

Several items in the basket looked extremely unfamiliar… wait no not just a couple, but every item looked unfamiliar.

“Oh, god these aren't mine!”

He dumped the contaminants of the basket onto the floor and looked through them, sorting through pink jockey shorts, jeans, and…

“Pink boxers” [Name] giggled.

He held them in his hand and flipped the waistband inside out.

“Darius… do I know Darius? They probably have my shit!”

[Name] got up and made his way over to his phone that lay on the desk. He flipped it open and punched in his roommate's number. It rang for a second or two until he answered.

“What’s up?”

“Hey um, do you know a Darius in this building? Our clothes got mixed up and I found his name on some of them!”

“I think so? I’m pretty sure there’s a boy down the hall by that name. His door has that dry-erase board.”

“Thanks, dude!”

[Name] put the clothes back into the basket and made his way out the door down the hall until he found the door his roommate had described. Balancing the basket in one hand, he knocked on the door, and the teeter tottered on his feet, waiting for the door to open.

“Who is it?”

“Hey I think our laundry got mixed up” [Name] called back.

The door opened slowly revealing the person behind the voice.

“I asked who it was, '' he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m [Name] I live down the hall from you and I took your clothes by accident!”

The boy looked behind his shoulder before stepping into the room and pointing at the basket that sat in the middle of his dorm.

“Is this yours then?”

[Name] hesitated before stepping into the room, walking toward the basket, and kneeling before it.

“Yeah, this is my stuff!”

“Good! Um, my name's Darry, by the way,” Darry called as he dragged his basket into the room.

“Well, I’m sorry for the mixup.”

“Uh, no worries dude… oh shit I hung up a couple of your clothes in the closet.”

[Name] sat the basket down and walked towards the grey metal cabinet that the college had called a fucking closet. Darry walked into the room and stood back as [Name] stood on his tip toes and pulled the shirts off the hanger. Darry couldn’t help but peek at [Name] not in a creepy way (at least not in his eyes) but innocently he was you know just looking at him he had no ill intent behind the stare.

He watched as the hem of his shirt lifted, revealing a small bit of skin his eyes traveled lower from his back to his…

“Hey um, are you doing anything this weekend?” Darry asked, fixing his hair with his hands.

Name walked toward the basket and dumped his shirts in before looking at Darry.

“No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“Well, there’s a party this weekend and as a thank-you gift for returning my clothes I thought I could invite you!”

[Name] shifted his weight on his feet ``Yeah I think I can make it!'

He picked up his basket and began walking out the door “Cute jockey shorts by the way pink is so your color!”

Darry stood there, his face turning a light pink out of embarrassment as [Name's] giggle echoed throughout the hall as he walked away.

The days turned to night, and the nights turned to day, and eventually, the night of the dumbass frat party had appeared. Darry and [Name] had been talking to each other over the past couple of days, leading up to the party, and had slowly gotten closer.

The two boys walked up the steps that led into the frat house that surely would reek of sweat, musk, weed, and beer. As they walked up the steps, [Name] looked at one of the brothers who was slumped over in a chair next to the door and passed out drunk.

“Jesus, didn’t the party start an hour ago?” [Name] questioned?

“Pre-gaming.”

“A little too hard.”

They walked into the building, which for sure held many regrets and secrets. Darry and [Name] pushed and shoved through people as they entered the ground floor and looked around.

“Do you want a drink?” Darry asked, scratching the nape of his neck.

[Name] nodded his head, and Darry told him to wait there as he headed off to look for the drinks. [Name] looked around, staring at all the buzzed people who were either dancing to the music or screaming over it.

[Name] took this second of lonesomeness to himself and thought about Darry. He had barely known him for less than a week, and he had already developed feelings for the boy.

Darry walked through the frat and pushed himself into a crowded kitchen that had already been mostly trashed. Beer bottles littered the counter tops as well as red solo cups, and the smell of weed hung over the room like a thick fog. Darry made his way toward an ice chest, flipped it open, pulled out two bottles, and began walking back.

“Darry?”

Darry turned around and saw his sister walking towards him, her hands placed on her hips.

“Hey, sis! I um gotta go!” Darry said as he tried to move quickly through the mob of people.

Trish quickly caught up to him, grabbed him by his sleeve, and pulled him back into the kitchen.

“I thought you weren’t into the parting scene? Especially because you live off campus. And who invited you” Darry questioned.

“Connections,” Trish responded. “Who’s the other drink for Dar?”

“A friend. I met him a couple of days ago.”

“Aww, you have a little boyfriend, Darry?” Trish teased.

Darry stood there silent, his face starting to flush as his sister's jaw dropped.

“Oh. My. God! Are you guys like fu-”

“No! No! Not my boyfriend. I don't like dudes… I think?”

Trish shifted her weight on her feet, examining her younger brother.

“You’re into dudes?”

“I don’t know! He is cute, but he's got me all confused!”

“Can I meet him?”

“No. And anyways he’s waiting for me so… bye.”

Darry turned around and pushed back into the sea of people, Trish looking at him with a confused look. Darry entered where he had left [Name] and looked around for a second in fear that the boy got up and left.

But no. [Name] sat on the bottom step of the staircase that led up to the second floor, his chin, in his palm as he looked at the floor. Darry rushed toward him and plopped down next to him.

“Where’d you go? I was starting to miss you.”

“Sorry I ran into my sister, and she - never mind here. I don’t know what you like, so I grabbed the first thing I saw.”

Darry handed the glass bottle to the boy and smiled at him unknowingly giving [Name] a certain feeling in his gut.

“Oh shit do you need a bottle opener?”

[Name] shook his head, lifted his shirt, and used his belt buckle to remove the bottle cap. [Name] let out a small chuckle and smiled at Darry as he handed him his bottle, and he did the same and handed the bottle back to Darry.

“Cheers,” Darry asked, holding the bottle out.

“Cheers!”

Clink! After a few drinks (more than a few, Like way more.) Darry and [Name] were fucked. The two boys stumbled down the steps bumping into each other, their arms around each other's shoulders.

“H-heyy Dar” [Name] asked, slurring each word.

“Yeah?”

“D-do- Hic! Do you want to stay the night in my dorm? My roommate's gone, and I don’t want to be alone… and drunk!”

“Sure~!”

They stumbled through the college campus and into the building that they lived in nearly eating shit multiple times on the way there. They drunkenly walked through the hallway that led toward [Names] dorm, their arms still around each other's shoulders for support.

[Name] opened the door, and they pushed themselves into the small room. [Name] grabbed Darry’s hand, led him to his bed, and pulled him onto it. There was a moment of silence between them… a tension of some sort as they looked at each other.

Darry’s usually neat middle part had become disheveled and stuck out here and there. [Name] reached out and ran his fingers through the messy sections, combing it back to its neat form.

“Your hair is so… soft~.”

Darry looked at [Name], examining him as if he had never seen another boy in his life… or at most one that made him feel this way. Darry chewed on the inside of his lip and stared at [Name] his own face turning pink.

“[Name]?”

“Hm?”

“D-do you have a girl?”

A smile crept onto [Name’s] face, and he gently tilted his head at Darry looking up at him.

“Who said I’m into girls” [Name] said smoothly.

Darry smiled at him, his face turning even pinker as several thoughts ran through his brain. [Name] placed a hand on the right side of his face.

“Are you… into me~?” Darry asked.

“Maybe?”

[Name] placed a soft kiss on Darry’s cheek and pulled back, smiling at him.

“Lips?”

[Name] giggled“You’re cute!”

“Well, are you?”

“Maybe… later?”

Darry frowned at [Name] as he adjusted himself so he was lying next to the wall. He gently patted the spot next to him. Darry fills in the space next to him and lies on his back, drumming his hands on his chest as [Name] lies facing the wall. A million thoughts rushed through his mind once again, but the main one was about his feelings toward the boy next to him.

“Cold.”

“Hm,” Darry hummed in response.

“I’m cold…”

“Oh…”

Darry adjusted his position, his chest to [Name’s] back as he wrapped an arm around the other boy, pulling him in closer.

“Better,” Darry asked?

“Mhm.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note!

In my active era? But I rewatched Jeeper Creepers (pirated it because fuck that director) and immediately after crawled to this app only to see ZERO stories. Also, look at this man, y'all, my knees weak... been on them too long for him. Also, I'm now just realizing how short this is. HOW TF WAS THIS 6 PAGES LONG ON DOCS???

#lgbtq #gay #darry jenner #Darry Jenner x male reader #justin long #male x male #male reader #i get so weak in the knees #this man has me in a chokehold #jeepers creepers #Darry Jenner x reader

[justloveme]

Does anyone have a gif of Micheal Myers’s, Bubba sawyer’s and pyramid head and other slasher’s thicc ass?

I have Thomas Hewitt

And Jason Voorhees

But I’m a whore and I need more!! I’m starting a collection and I won’t rest until I have everyone!!!

#slashers #slashers x reader #Thomas Hewitt #jason voorhees #micheal myers #thicc af #big boi #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #the creeper #bubba sawyer #slasher thirst #pyramid head